Shortcomings or strenghts

   A few days ago I went to a workshop titled "Forgiveness in Psychotherapy". Those hours were emotional and powerful. The speaker was so great that he helped us go inside ourselves and see what wounds we still have open and how we were doing in the complex process of forgiveness. I will describe that emotional journey in another entry because today I want to focus in the things that I have taken for granted.

     During the meeting I was sitting next to man, who was deaf. He was able to get the information spoken with the help of a stenographer. The stenotype operator wrote everything for him to keep him informed and he read it from the computer screen in front of him. At that moment I realized that I have taken my hearing for granted. He probably read the words, but he missed the musical sound of speech, the emotion in the words, the different accents that helps us create stories. How blessed I am that I can hear. I saw how difficult it was for him to communicate with others, because he had to read lips and we were not aware at all times of our positioning.

     In the next table there was another gentleman that was bound to a wheelchair. I thought of how many things he is missing. I am so blessed that I can make full use of my legs, that I can go hiking, that I can dance, that I can move around my office. I love the sense of freedom and independence that walking allows me to enjoy.





  Today I was walking outside while waiting for my brother to give me a ride back home. It was cold and windy, and those 15 minutes felt eternal. I started to look around for interesting things to take pictures of. I looked down the bridge and saw the camp of a homeless person. I immediately thought how blessed I was. How can someone survive and enjoy life under such circumstances? I  felt guilty because even though I am not a big complainer I have complained sometimes about not having a bigger kitchen with granite countertops, or a sun room, or more space in the bathroom, or new vinyl siding. I realized that I am blessed by not having to be at the mercy of nature, by not having the fear of being arrested because of camping on illegal grounds. I am blessed because at night I can go home.

     It may sound redundant, but I need to emphasized that I have a blessed life. When I was a kid we didn't have excess but we didn't lack anything. I never saw myself as poor because everyone around me was on the same situation, so I didn't know different. My backyard was the whole barrio, my family was the whole neighborhood, we probably didn't have a lot of money but I had a rich childhood. I have been blessed with the gift of health. All my senses are intact, I can see the beauty that surrounds me, I can hear my children's laughter and the emotion in their words, I can go places without help....Oh God I am blessed! I can't say that the people I mentioned aren't. I don't even see their limitation as a shortcoming, because they have overcome it and they have accomplished what many people couldn't believe they will. Even the homeless, because not everyone could survive under those conditions. I see all three as an example of strength.

     Please be thankful everyday for the gifts life or the Superior Being has given you. Life sometimes gets rough, but by no means should we forget that those issues are temporary and life goes on.

In love

     I have been acting different. Have been filled with excitement and energy. It is like with every step I take endorphins are released, by the millions. What a great feeling. I am wondering what's causing it. If I know the cause I might be able to perpetuate it. I started to do some exploration. Somedays I feel like I am an enigma to myself. I have inner places I haven't explore, other ones that I don't want to...at least for now.

   Today, I realized what's the reason for the emotional commotion. I am in love...with an illusion. Is that a good thing? It could be if you are truly aware, otherwise it isn't. Based on the dictionary illusion is "something that deceives by producing a false or misleading impression of reality". So this cannot be good. I have been sucked in a tornado, and I am covered with the frustration of what it means to be deceived. What do I do with those feelings? I guess I have to deal with them the best I can and alone, because an illusion can't be clear or reaffirming, it can't listen, it can't have a dialogue nor can't understand how it feel on the other side. An illusion can't coexist with reality, because it is an oxymoron.

   While this discovery was going on, I thought of a book I read a while back. The book was titled "Ser como el rio que fluye" or Like the flowing river from Paulo Coelho. This book compiles a series of small stories and one of my favorie ones was The story of the Pencil or "La historia del lapiz". When I saw the title I said to myself what is this gifted man wasting his time writing about a pencil. A pencil isn't an object that we think much about. I know it has two purposes, write and erase. I decided to read the story anyway since I usually love everything he writes.
    In the story there is a wise grandma (just like mine) giving her grandson a life lesson. She told her curious grandson that more important than the story that she was writing, was the pencil. She told the kid "I wish you will be like one when you grow up".  The kid saw the pencil the same way I see it, so could imagine his reaction. The grandma started to describe the five qualities of a pencil, she even said "...if you obtain and retain these qualities they will make you a peaceful person...". At that moment, and before I read the qualities I wanted to be like the a pencil. The five qualities described were:
1) the pencil could do great things when its guided by a hand.
2) endures change through suffering when its sharpened, and it could do better things after it.
3) it allows us to erase mistakes.
4) the important thing isn't the wood that is made of, but the interior, the graphite.
5) it always leaves a mark, so we should careful of our actions.
  
    And how its the pencil story related to my love to an illusion? If I had all the qualities of a pencil I wouldn't be in this predicament. I guess I didn't allow the Superior Being to guide me like a hand guides the pencil. I have endure suffering that by all means have made me stronger, but it hasn't affect my behavior. I wish I have an eraser to erase some of the mistakes that I have made in the last few years. I am leaving a mark, but is that a good one?

    Today I have decided to be more like the pencil. I am erasing some of my mistakes, I am going to re-write my story. An illusion can't be center of my life, an illusion should be treated as such. Am I afraid of reality? In some ways I think so, otherwise I will not he holding on to an illusion.

The Anatomy of Love

     Love...a short but powerful word. This word takes different meanings depending on who is defining it. We all have love stories to tell.  Love has so many faces, shapes, colors, ways of expression. I have love so much, and one of the greatest love of my life is my beautiful grandmother. She stole my heart before I knew, it could be stolen.  I call her mami, but she is also known as mama Milla or simply mama. I will describe the anatomy of my love towards her. I am very lucky to still have her in my life. What a blessing it is for my kids to have known and still enjoy their great-grandmother.

    During her last visit,  I was driving home to see her since she arrived from Puerto Rico the day before. As I entered my neighborhood my heart started to beat faster. I was excited. I had butterflies in my stomach, and I was tearful just with the thought that I was going to see that woman that had given me so much love since I remember. It felt like I was going to meet my first love. I finally saw her...for the first time with white hair. How beautiful! She really looked like a grandma.
 
    Let me tell you a little bit about my grandma... I always called her mami because she didn't want to be called grandma. She was very young (around 30 years old) when I was born. I was the first grandchild. I grew up in the house next to hers, so I was always a few feet away. When I think of her the first word that comes to my mind in strength. What a remarkable woman she's been. A true example for me and who ever is around her. She was never afraid to speak up her mind, but now she picks her battles. I guess she got wiser over the years. Her gait is now slower and her balance is not as steady, but she looked more beautiful than the last time I saw her. When she hugged me, I felt like we were the only ones in the world... I felt like coming home.

   She always taught me things. I remember when I was a teenager she used to tell me all the time "make sure you go to school, so you don't have to depend on a man". Back then I had no idea what was she talking about, but I am glad I listened since in many occasions I had to depend on myself.  Another of her teachings was, "never judge someone else's children, because some day you will have your own". That is so true. It feels so bad when someone judges your children that you don't want any other mother to experience that kind of pain. I remember after I divorced (the second time) she said to me, and I was so worry about what others will think that she said  to me "live your life the way you want to live it". That was one of the best advice I have ever received.

   She is so imperfectly perfect. I see so much of her in me. She always trusted and believed in me. She had no doubt that I could do well. Because of that I tried hard and harder. I didn't want to disappoint her. Like the proverb says, " she created movement by being still..." 

   I cannot paint a picture of my grandma because I don't have the ability to so do so, but I could write about her. There are not enough words in the world to describe her but I will say that she is honest; kind; strong; will support you even when she disagrees; defends her family with the courage of a hunting lioness; she is loving like bottomless pit; she is above the influence...she is one of a kind.